dignitaries were delivered with far less spleen. They did, however, leave us with no great regard for some of the names, and shed light onto Johnny’s fount of knowledge, rumour and gossip.
‘The best of the bunch on that platform is Uncle Tom,’ Johnny gestured discreetly to the man at the opposite end of the line-up to the solicitor he’d just vilified. ‘He used to be a good copper until he joined the criminal fraternity.’
I recognised the man he referred to as ‘Uncle Tom’
‘I thought Tom Fox was a councillor?’ I asked.
‘Yes, that’s what I meant by “joining the criminal fraternity”.’
‘Johnny, I’m shocked that you should think so badly of our elected representatives.’
He grinned. ‘It would take a heat-seeking missile to shock you, Adam.’
Eventually the tiresome official proceedings ended. Before the throng moved inside to check out the new exhibits there was a short period of respite from the formal timetable, giving attendees the chance to mingle. The schedule had indicated that light refreshments would be available in the museum foyer before the second part of the entertainment, when the opening of the extension built to house the art gallery was to be conducted by the celebrity guest.
‘I’m really surprised that Casper isn’t here,’ Johnny remarked as we watched the gathering disperse towards the food. ‘Mind you, there are enough villains present without adding one more.’
‘Who’s Casper?’ Eve asked.
‘He calls himself Casper Harfleur but his real name is Charles Harvey. Apparently that didn’t have a sufficiently artistic ring to it for someone who believed himself to be the next Rembrandt. The problem was that although he changed his name, Casper was unable to improve his talent. That isn’t to say he isn’t proficient. Casper can paint almost as good a Rembrandt as Rembrandt did; similarly with Van Dyke, Matisse and a lot of other famous artists. Sadly his ability didn’t extend beyond imitating other people’s work.’
‘You’re saying that this man Casper is a forger?’
‘He is – or rather he was until he got found out. After that the only things he painted for a while were the walls of his prison cell. He’s been out a couple of years now, and swears he isn’t up to his old tricks. So far, it seems he’s behaved himself. I saw him in Dinsdale last month and he mentioned that he might come along, but perhaps he changed his mind. Maybe Casper thought that if people saw him here they might be nervous about how genuine the paintings on show were.’
Notwithstanding his disparaging comments, I got the impression that Johnny didn’t dislike Casper. Perhaps respect for Casper’s ability softened his mistrust. As it turned out, Johnny was wrong in one respect. Casper was there – and was about to make a suitably dramatic appearance.
At that moment DS Holmes signalled to Johnny to join him. As he left, Eve and I crossed the turf to speak to Michael, Chloe and the others.
To anyone watching we must have seemed like a really romantic couple, with Eve clinging onto my arm in devoted fashion. That would have been a misleading impression, for there was nothing amorous in her tone as she whispered to me, ‘You might have given me some warning beforehand that I would have to walk across acres of lawn. If I’d known I’d never have put these stiletto heels on.’
Chapter Seven
––––––––
I was still struggling to work out why I was to blame for Eve’s unsuitable footwear when we met up with the vicar, his mother and fiancée. Chloe introduced us to David and Valerie Kershaw. The couple, although amiable enough, were less than forthcoming, and we moved on before the situation became awkward.
Elsewhere, conversation quite naturally centred on the new building and the excitement generated by the prospect of the town housing one of the prime exhibition spaces of its type in the region. The other talking point, equally understandable,
‘The best of the bunch on that platform is Uncle Tom,’ Johnny gestured discreetly to the man at the opposite end of the line-up to the solicitor he’d just vilified. ‘He used to be a good copper until he joined the criminal fraternity.’
I recognised the man he referred to as ‘Uncle Tom’
‘I thought Tom Fox was a councillor?’ I asked.
‘Yes, that’s what I meant by “joining the criminal fraternity”.’
‘Johnny, I’m shocked that you should think so badly of our elected representatives.’
He grinned. ‘It would take a heat-seeking missile to shock you, Adam.’
Eventually the tiresome official proceedings ended. Before the throng moved inside to check out the new exhibits there was a short period of respite from the formal timetable, giving attendees the chance to mingle. The schedule had indicated that light refreshments would be available in the museum foyer before the second part of the entertainment, when the opening of the extension built to house the art gallery was to be conducted by the celebrity guest.
‘I’m really surprised that Casper isn’t here,’ Johnny remarked as we watched the gathering disperse towards the food. ‘Mind you, there are enough villains present without adding one more.’
‘Who’s Casper?’ Eve asked.
‘He calls himself Casper Harfleur but his real name is Charles Harvey. Apparently that didn’t have a sufficiently artistic ring to it for someone who believed himself to be the next Rembrandt. The problem was that although he changed his name, Casper was unable to improve his talent. That isn’t to say he isn’t proficient. Casper can paint almost as good a Rembrandt as Rembrandt did; similarly with Van Dyke, Matisse and a lot of other famous artists. Sadly his ability didn’t extend beyond imitating other people’s work.’
‘You’re saying that this man Casper is a forger?’
‘He is – or rather he was until he got found out. After that the only things he painted for a while were the walls of his prison cell. He’s been out a couple of years now, and swears he isn’t up to his old tricks. So far, it seems he’s behaved himself. I saw him in Dinsdale last month and he mentioned that he might come along, but perhaps he changed his mind. Maybe Casper thought that if people saw him here they might be nervous about how genuine the paintings on show were.’
Notwithstanding his disparaging comments, I got the impression that Johnny didn’t dislike Casper. Perhaps respect for Casper’s ability softened his mistrust. As it turned out, Johnny was wrong in one respect. Casper was there – and was about to make a suitably dramatic appearance.
At that moment DS Holmes signalled to Johnny to join him. As he left, Eve and I crossed the turf to speak to Michael, Chloe and the others.
To anyone watching we must have seemed like a really romantic couple, with Eve clinging onto my arm in devoted fashion. That would have been a misleading impression, for there was nothing amorous in her tone as she whispered to me, ‘You might have given me some warning beforehand that I would have to walk across acres of lawn. If I’d known I’d never have put these stiletto heels on.’
Chapter Seven
––––––––
I was still struggling to work out why I was to blame for Eve’s unsuitable footwear when we met up with the vicar, his mother and fiancée. Chloe introduced us to David and Valerie Kershaw. The couple, although amiable enough, were less than forthcoming, and we moved on before the situation became awkward.
Elsewhere, conversation quite naturally centred on the new building and the excitement generated by the prospect of the town housing one of the prime exhibition spaces of its type in the region. The other talking point, equally understandable,
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